


I Could Write It Better Than You Ever Felt It

by MrSandman



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Character Study, Emotions, Fall Out Boy Lyrics, Ficlet, Friendship, Gen, Inspired by Music, Light Angst, M/M, No Dialogue, Nonverbal Communication, Observances, Relationship Study, Relationship(s), Romantic Friendship, Trust, Writing, Writing on Skin, dependence on each other but not as unhealthy as codependence???, if that makes sense, it's barely angst but there isn't a better word for it, or is it???, or is it?????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:23:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3112838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSandman/pseuds/MrSandman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slipped in between the clever wordplay and elaborate metaphors, Pete hides pieces of himself, and hopes that no one will find them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Write It Better Than You Ever Felt It

**Author's Note:**

> So I was listening to You're Crashing, But You're No Wave (even though the title is from Hum Hallelujah because I'm contrary like that) and it suddenly struck me that an awful lot of the lyrics of the song, and of Fall Out Boy songs in general, just sound like words at first, but (at least in my opinion) seem like they hold more personal meaning for Pete, if you read beneath the surface. He's said things to that effect in interviews before, and I kind of had an awareness of that before now, but it just suddenly hit me. Hence, this. I don't know if it's really a fic in the traditional sense of the word - it's more of a series of observations, or a character study, or something. I guess. So. 
> 
> This was looked over by Rochy and beta-ed by savingpeoplehuntingthings, and I owe them one for me picking holes in their constructive criticism - you guys are the real MVP.
> 
> Disclaimer: If you found this by googling your name, or the name of someone you know, then hopefully you appreciate that this is completely and utterly a work of fiction and though the plot is my own, I of course don't own you or anyone else mentioned. These characters are based on the likenesses of real people, and to the best of my knowledge none of the events herein have ever happened. Also I'm not making any money from this - only for fun folks!

Pete puts an awful lot of himself into his lyrics, and Patrick doesn't think that people realise. Although Pete has  talked about how personal the words are in countless interviews, everyone seems to hear him without necessarily listening.

Slipped in between the clever wordplay and elaborate metaphors, Pete hides pieces of himself, and hopes that no one will find them. 

Or, maybe he does. Maybe, in the selfless way that only Patrick seems to really understand, Pete hopes that the people who need it most will look under the surface, past what appear to be empty clichés and meaningless sentiments. Maybe he hopes that they’ll take something from what he's been through, and know they're not alone.

Either way, Patrick  knows that writing is an intrinsic part of Pete's being. If he's not writing, his hands are fidgety, twitching, like they subconsciously know that they should be moving, scratching out the waterfall of words that fill his brain, colliding with the walls of his mind like a speeding freight train until he lets them pour out. Pete just needs to write.

Patrick has taken to carrying around notebooks, now. Just in case Pete's hands get too fidgety; too twitchy. He’s sure that Pete has noticed, but he never says anything, and neither does Patrick. This little fact of their relationship goes unspoken. Patrick doesn't think it even needs to be spoken, thinks that this would undermine the point, even if he isn't entirely sure of the point himself. Pete has taken his own meaning from it, and that's what matters.

Not that Patrick has any reason to complain about this, though. Pete is constantly giving him words, scrawled on a napkin from a grimy roadside diner, or etched into the paper of one of Pete's myriad notebooks, or even scribbled directly onto Patrick's arm with a permanent marker, once. Patrick had made him swear never to do that again, after it took a full week to fade from his skin, bearing in mind the fact that most of the time they showered once every couple weeks when they were touring in that crummy little van.

But it's more than that; at least to Patrick, anyway. Before Pete hides those most vulnerable parts of himself in plain sight, for ******** all to see but never understand, he gives them to Patrick. He gives pieces of himself to Patrick, and lets Patrick chop and change and rearrange them, and together they sew the meaning of the words deep in the soul of the song. He never lets anyone else have their way with his words. Only Patrick. And Patrick never lets himself forget just how special that is.

Because Patrick knows what it really means,  even if Pete's never explicitly said it to his face.

It's there in the metaphors, sometimes so thinly veiled that Patrick wonders when the "Pete Wentz Secret Gay Love for Bandmate" headlines are going to surface, when the penny will drop for Perez and his cronies. 

It's there in the intense, desperate look in Pete's eyes when he surrenders his words to Patrick, surrendering himself in the process.

And it's there in the words whispered against Patrick's skin every night on stage, Pete's lips bitten raw and dragging across Patrick's throat.

_I love you, I love you,_ _I_ _love you._

And it doesn't even matter what Pete means by that, Patrick thinks as Pete spins by him and grins, big and wide and shining bright, making Patrick's heart swell. 

Because knowing that Pete loves him in one way or another, whether it's romantic or platonic or even spiritual, and being able to whisper _I love you too_   into Pete's hair, as he tucks himself into Patrick's side on the couch in the bus lounge and presses his nose into Patrick’s chest above his collarbone, that's all that Patrick needs. 

Because Patrick knows, he knows that he is Pete’s and Pete is his. They're eternally tethered to each other, through thick and thin, a bond stronger yet less tangible than blood. Truth be told, Patrick needs Pete to keep giving him his words, as much as Pete needs to keep on  giving them, because their connection goes both ways. And maybe they'll keep taking and giving and taking and giving until they both wear away into nothing.

But all obliquely transparent lyrics aside?

Patrick wouldn't change it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying out a different style of formatting, so if this was either completely illegible or absolutely fine it would be awesome if you guys could let me know!
> 
> If you guys want to send me prompts/requests/headcanons (and want to receive virtual cookies and eternal friendship in return), come hit me up at kingisdead.tumblr.com :)
> 
> (((Also comments, kudos, constructive criticism etc. are all very much appreciated.)))


End file.
